


what can the harvest hope for

by lagaudiere



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 03:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12424092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lagaudiere/pseuds/lagaudiere
Summary: The book shudders violently in his hands, then. It's a signal that only means one thing; that he has a new, powerful target, one he can't ignore.Kravitz opens it and, very quietly, swears. Then he summons his scythe and goes to track down the man who used to be the hunger.***Taako rebuilds his brand. John sulks his way through the afterlife. Kravitz is the arbiter of life and death, but that doesn't mean he's good at making decisions.





	what can the harvest hope for

Kravitz goes to the moonbase looking for the three relatively terrible probably-liches he'd met in a necromancer's lab. He finds someone else.    
  
The book vibrates in his hands with such strength that Kravitz thinks he's found them, the possibly-necromantic trio from the Miller Labs. But when he opens it, he's looking at two names he hasn't seen before. So he's never been near them on this plane and he's never been assigned a case that involved them -- Lucretia and Davenport -- whoever they are.    
  
He steps through the walls of the center offices of the moon base, cloaked in invisibility. He finds them in the very center; the book tells him when he's gotten close. Lucretia, he assumes, is the woman sitting at an oak desk and writing with both hands in two different notebooks. So Davenport can only be the gnomish man in the corner, who seems to be knitting. 

  
Kravitz, appearing across from her desk, puts the full accent into it. "In the name of the Raven Queen," he says, "I command you to surrender."    
  
Davenport doesn't even look up from him, and Lucretia just seems uninterested. "Oh," she says, looking at him with tired eyes. "I was wondering if you'd come looking for us."    
  
It's always disheartening to start off on this foot. It's been happening to him a lot more lately. He's got to get a new cloak, or a better scythe.    
  
"Lucretia, you've died twelve times," Kravitz says. "Davenport -- much worse. Twenty-eight. I don't know what's going on up here on your little moon, but this is unacceptable. You're comin' with me."    
  
"No, I don't think so," Lucretia says mildly.    
  
Kravitz, irritated, double-checks the numbers in his book. "This is accurate," he says. "The Raven doesn't make mistakes. Now--"    
  
"No, I mean I'm not coming," Lucretia says, and from her desk she produces a truly beautiful set of dragonchess. The figures are carved emerald and ebony, the board the finest polished crystal. Kravitz hasn't seen anything like it in decades.    
  
Lucretia calmly begins setting the figures across the board. "They say you like playing games," she says. "You may not have won your round against the liches who run Wonderland, but I'm sure you can handle me. I'm only human. I've only had a century's worth of practice."    
  
She knows about the Wonderland liches, then. Kravitz glances over at this gnome named Davenport, as blank-faced as the bounties at the lab were when he'd asked them about their death counts. This Lucretia is, it's obvious now, the center of it.    
  
"Very well," Kravitz says. "You win, you buy yourself a few decades. I win--" he would smirk at her if he could -- I take you in, and you explain what happened to your boys at the lab. Taako and..." He flounders for a moment. "Those other two."    
  
Lucretia quirks an eyebrow at him. "Would you believe it's the same thing that happened to me?" She waves a wand and a chair appears across from her. Kravitz sits down, but doesn't drop out of his skeletal form. "But that's a long story. You may have the first move."    
  
Kravitz takes a moment to admire the fine carving of the pawn before moving it forward. There are symbols on it that he doesn't recognize, maybe even language.    
  
His style of playing has always been aggressive, and Lucretia's is much more reserved. It takes him quite a few moves to realize what is happening, and by then it's too late. Her false caution has drawn him out and he's played right into her hands. Her last few moves are decisive and bold.    
  
"Well," says Lucretia, and goes back to scratching her quill across a notebook page. In this whole time, she has never looked slightly afraid of him. "Why don't you go and see Taako? He should be back in their quarters by now, and he's always been a good negotiator." She looks up at him briefly. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon enough. Don't worry."    
  
"Right." Kravitz has the feeling of something going completely over his head, which he hates. He probably should just go and talk to Taako; he, at least, had seemed willing to converse. "Don't disobey the laws of nature again," he says, with a sternness he doesn't feel, and awkwardly phases through the wall.   
  
***   
  
On their second date, Taako takes him to a dive bar.    
  


When Kravitz walks in, he thinks he's gotten the wrong place at first. It seems to be predominantly a tiefling bar, and he can see at least two pairs of people arm wrestling from the front doorway. The air is smoky and the music is terrible. 

And there's Taako, waving at him from the bar with a broad grin.

He looks incredibly out of place, covered as he always is in pockets, costume jewelry and various scarves, topped in a pointed purple hat. When Kravitz walks over to his barstool, he's engaged in an intense discussion with the bartender. 

“What do you mean, you can't make a daiquiri?” Taako says indignantly. “I don't care if you don't have a blender, doesn't anyone in this place have any spells? Just let me come back there and do it myself -- hey, Kravitz -- if you're so concerned about transmutation etiquette.” 

The tiefling behind the bar looks unimpressed. “We have brandy,” he says, matter-of-fact.

Taako groans. “Fine, two of those then.” He turns to Kravitz and sighs dramatically. “Can you believe this place?” 

“You picked it,” Kravitz says, bemused.

“Yeah.” The bartender slides two brandys down the bar towards them, and Taako takes a substantial gulp. “I used to come to places like this all the time.”

“Did you?” Kravitz says with a smile, taking a sip of his brandy. It's impressively strong. Taako’s already halfway finished with his. 

“Well, I used to work at places like this.” He twirls a strand of long hair around his finger, and Kravitz is oddly fascinated by it. He does everything elegantly, even this. “The pay wasn't as bad as you'd think. Maybe they're accepting resumes.” 

He launches into several stories about improving the menus of previously hopeless establishments, and Kravitz listens with the creeping suspicion that he would listen to Taako talk about anything.

“Hey,” Taako says. “Are you any good at pool?” 

Kravitz shrugs. “I'm alright.”

“Good. Great. Okay, just follow my lead.” 

Before he can think of a response to that, Taako has jumped down from his barstool and is pulling Kravitz by the hand towards two of the roughest-looking people in the place, an orc with two swords strapped to his back and a tiefling with ominous facial tattoos.

“Hail and well met!” Taako says brightly. “You boys up for a round of billiards?”

Kravitz feels their eyes slide over the pair of them, sizing them up, and considers whether this might an appropriate time to turn into a skeleton, because they do not seem impressed. 

“Sure,” the tiefling says. “Let’s see how you do.” 

Taako smiles a sparkling smile. “Cool!” 

The orc and the tiefling are both incredibly good at pool, the orc especially. Kravitz holds his own, but he's clearly out of practice. Taako is terrible. He holds the cue like he's never seen one before and misses every shot. 

“Oops!” he says nonchalantly as he fails entirely to hit the ball he was aiming for. “I guess I'm not very good at this!” 

He twirls the pool cue carelessly, and Kravitz can see the other two men glaring at him. They were obviously expecting better.

“How about a little more of a challenge?” Taako says. “I work a lot better under pressure.” 

“Taako--” Kravitz starts to say, but Taako holds up a hand to stop him. “C’mon, babe. I know you're a gambler.” He winks, and there's a smirk playing around the edges of his lips. 

And he's right -- Kravitz is a gambler, and he can recognize a hustler when he sees one. The dawning realization must show on his face, because Taako winks at him. 

Kravitz flushes, not least because of the word “babe”.

“Sure,” the orc says. “What’re we betting?” 

“Hmm. Twenty gold?” Taako says. “And if I win… I'll take one of those swords.”

The orc laughs. “Really? These are worth a lot more than twenty gold.” 

Taako smiles back blithely. “C’mon. It'll be a miracle if I win. Give me some good odds.” 

The other man laughs and shrugs. “All right. Let's go.” 

Kravitz and the tiefling man look on while they play, and Taako’s whole demeanor changes. He goes from relaxed and loose-limited to sharp-eyed and precise, all his movements perfectly measured. He wins before the orc man even has a chance to realize what's going on. 

When he does, he glares at the two of them, looking resentful. “Well,” he says, “I can't say you didn't fool me.” He pulls the sword from his back and hold it out to Taako, who accepts it with a flourishing bow. 

A few drinks later, Taako and Kravitz are stumbling out into the street, Kravitz carrying Taako’s newly acquired sword. “You do this a lot?” Kravitz says. “The hustling?” 

Taako laughs. “Used to,” he says. “I don't get out as much anymore… still got it, though.” He hooks his arm through Kravitz’s, leaning on him slightly. “Sometimes it's easier to get what you want if people underestimate you. Little tip for you, Mr. Big Dramatic Entrance.”

“I would never underestimate you,” Kravitz says, and Taako leans into him a little more, looks up at him with sparkling eyes that seem more genuine, now. 

He runs a hand along Kravitz’s chest, tugging at his tie, and he's kissing him before Kravitz can think of how to respond or about his weird, cold skin.

It’s a good kiss. It's really good. 

“You better not,” Taako whispers. 

  
***    
  
The shining sapphire golem that Legion is currently occupying falls to pieces with a wave of Kravitz's hand. The world has been saved, and Kravitz is standing in front of an army of ghosts.    
  
"So typical," Brian says immediately, in his voice that Kravitz always thinks must be fake. "Taako gets ze big romantic moment. Well, I suppose he earned it."    
  
"I thought it was kinda beautiful," says Marvey.    
  
Jenkins sniffs in irritation. "He's only using you, you know."    
  
"Do you ever think we might be the bad guys?" Marvey muses.    
  
Kravitz snaps the book in his hands shut. "Yes, well," he says. "I can give you a day, that should be plenty of time for any unfinished earthly business. Please don't try to possess anyone. I'm very tired."   
  
The spirits drift past him and off into the world, a visual testament to his bad judgement and sinking chances of a positive quarterly review. Maureen Miller shoots him a grateful smile. Brian follows it with an unpleasant spectral wink.    
  
Kravitz doesn't care about any of it. Taako is alive. Kravitz would know immediately if he weren't. He's alive, and that means they have the most precious thing Kravitz can think of, which is a future.    
  
The book shudders violently in his hands, then. It's a signal that only means one thing; that he has a new, powerful target, one he can't ignore.   
  
Kravitz opens it and, very quietly, swears. Then he summons his scythe and goes to track down the man who used to be the hunger.    
  
***   
  
Kravitz finds Taako hours later, in his dorm on the moonbase. Taako has essentially given him a metaphysical key through his protection wards, but he tries to be careful and quiet as he steps through the space between the worlds.    
  
He needn't have been so careful; there's a very significant amount of noise already pervading the space. There are loud music, yells and laughter coming from the communal space of the suite, most of them recognizable (Magnus, of course, is the loudest). Kravitz almost doesn't expect to see Taako at all, but there he is, curled up in his bed under a pile of blankets.    
  
He's not sleeping, but the only reason Kravitz can tell is because of the elven hand that emerges from the blanket to grab a macaron from a plate on his nightstand.    
  
"Taako?" Kravitz says softly.    
  
The form under the blankets sits up, and Taako pulls them back from his face. "Oh," he says. "You're here."    
  
"I wanted to come see you. Say thank you, for everything you've done." Kravitz can feel tears pricking at his eyes -- an uncomfortable, unfamiliarly human feeling -- and he tries to blink them back. Taako's sitting there with his hair in pigtails and wearing footie pajamas, and Kravitz is completely in awe of him. "You're just... you're amazing."    
  
Taako smiles at him. He looks exhausted. "Well, thanks, homie. You could say it to the whole squad, but I really don't want to go back out there and talk to everyone again." He sighs. "Lup's kinda keeping the party going, what with being a lich, but I'm..."   
  
"You've had a long day."    
  
Taako nods and then extends the plate of macarons towards him. "You want these? They got chocolate chips."    
  
Kravitz takes the plate, and Taako flops back onto his bed, rearranging his blankets. There are at least six of them. He waves a hand at Kravitz in a way that mean "sit down," and Kravitz perches at the foot of his bed.    
  
"'M glad I didn't die," Taako says, muffled. "I'm really glad I got Lup back. But it's not like I feel any different. Still just Taako."    
  
"You know, no one else would ever describe you as just Taako," Kravitz says.    
  
Sharp eyes peak out at him, skeptical. "I shouldn't be sayin' that either," he says, with a bitter edge. "I'll get over it. Just been a long day." He yawns, pretty spectacularly."    
  
"I'm sure it has," Kravitz says fondly, and a pillow hits him in the head.    
  
"Stay," Taako says, both sleepily and authoritatively, so Kravitz does.   
  
***   
The arrival of John is the biggest change the Eternal Stockade has seen in centuries. Kravitz doesn't like it.    


There are necromancers and mass murderers and those who have defied the will of the gods, and Kravitz is used to that, has spent centuries dealing with that. Then there's the person who tried to destroy all of the universe, all of  _ the universes _ , and there's never been anyone else like that on his plane before. 

“I've been wondering,” John says through the bars as he makes his rounds, “are you able to bring physical objects into this realm?” 

Kravitz, without thinking about it, touches the ring of keys at his hip. The keys are a kind of power that hardly anyone else who was once mortal has ever had. They give him more power than many gods. There isn't a spirit in the Eternal Stockade who hasn't made a grab for them, and he can't imagine what they could do in the hands of someone like John. 

“I can,” Kravitz says cautiously. “Why?” 

John wavers around the edges, blurry and unfocused the way the dead are when they don't concentrate on how they look. He’ll lose the memory of his physical body eventually, the way Kravitz has worked so hard over the centuries not too. But then, maybe not -- John, he gathers, hasn't had a physical body for a long time. 

“I was wondering if you could bring me some books,” John says. “I suppose I'm going to be here for a long time. I’d like to catch up on some recent developments in philosophy.”

Kravitz hesitates. “I… have a small library,” he says, not mentioning that it's mostly composed on mystery novels. “I suppose I could bring you some.” 

It can't hurt for him to have access to reading materials, right? There's no way he could warp that into some way of destroying the realm or possessing Kravitz or --

“Thank you,” John says. “I can't tell you how much I appreciate that.” 

He smiles a pleasant, bland smile. It sends shivers down Kravitz’s spine.

 

***

Elves don't need to sleep, in the same way that Kravitz doesn't, but there's something about sleeping next to someone else that makes it seem more necessary, that is more refreshing than any amount of meditation. Kravitz has gotten used to it, to stealing those hours when he can. 

Except that after the Day of Story and Song, Taako doesn't sleep, and he doesn't meditate either.

The next time Kravitz sees him is a week later, after chasing down all the souls of those who died while he was trapped in the astral plane, bargaining with the Raven Queen about Lup and Barry, and dealing with mounds of paperwork. Taako gave him a time to meet up, but he's not responding to any of Kravitz’s attempts to lure him out of his dorm room, begging off with a vague comment about his hair. 

He's pacing around the room now, occasionally pulling things out of his drawers or closet and throwing them into boxes based on a sorting system that is incomprehensible to Kravitz. It makes Kravitz nervous just watching him. 

“I'm so excited to finally get out of here,” Taako says, with a gesture that indicates his whole room and possibly the world in general. “Magnus is still moping around but I’m, I’m not gonna stick around, they can catch me living somewhere where the best food you can get isn't--”

He cuts himself off with a prolonged yawn, and Kravitz can't ignore how truly exhausted he looks, dark circles under his eyes and posture wilted. 

“--Costco free samples,” Taako finishes sheepishly. 

“Sweetheart,” Kravitz says, and the pet name is half sarcastic, but only half, “when was the last time you slept?” 

Taako scowls at him. “It's the -- it's the, fuckin’, bad dreams,” he says ruefully, slamming a cabinet closed. “It's not like I had  _ good _ dreams before, I mean, they were shitty, but now it's a whole ‘nother level, like, how are you supposed to sleep after you remember the Hunger?” It's a disorganized rush of words, on the border of becoming a rant. 

“I can't imagine,” Kravitz says. He reaches out, tries to set a hand on Taako’s shoulder, but Taako shrugs it off. 

He looks angry, but Kravitz knows it's not in a directed way. Taako is just angry at the world, sometimes. “Anyway. I was never that good at meditating, and I super can't do that shit now -- I tried with Lup, but she's, she's all incorporeal.” 

He looks miserable, and Kravitz hasn't thought of Taako as vulnerable in a long time, not since that night at the bar when he’d feigned cluelessness so well, but he seems terribly vulnerable right now.

“Try it with me,” Kravitz says. 

Taako looks up at him, surprised. “What?” 

“I meditate sometimes. Can't really sleep on duty or in the astral plane. I don't know if elves do it differently, but, uh, it helps me.”

Taako looks skeptical. “What’re we gonna do?”

“What do you do with Lup?”

“Don't have to worry about it with her,” Taako mumbles, and then shrugs. “We can try, though. Sit down.” 

He gestures at his bed, covered in clothing, and Kravitz shoves a pile of sweaters out of his way. They sit there facing each other; Taako crosses his legs in a complex pretzel formation and Kravitz tries to imitate it. Taako extends both hands to him, and Kravitz takes them. 

“Sometimes we use a telepathy spell,” Taako says, “but I don't wanna do that to you.” He smiles and closes his eyes, so Kravitz closes his too. 

“Tell me what you do,” Taako says softly. “What you think about. Maybe it'll help.” 

Kravitz hasn't spoken out loud while meditating before, but he figures it won't matter so much if it isn't exactly working for him, if he can help Taako. “All right,” he says. “Try picturing, ah, somewhere you've been that makes you feel calm. Somewhere peaceful.” 

Taako's quiet for a moment. “I can't think of anything,” he says, slightly on edge. 

Kravitz feels his mouth twitch into a half-smile. “Alright, what about the canyon from the twenty-eighth cycle? Purple sky and red rocks? There were those clouds of butterflies --”  _ That Lucretia wrote about _ , he starts to say, and thinks better of it. 

“It's so weird that you know that.” There's a long pause, and Kravitz doesn't interrupt it. “I can picture it, yeah. I guess I was, um, pretty chill there. Considering.” 

“Okay. Now you don't have to say anything, but just think about what it was like there, what you liked about it. And keep doing it until you feel like you're there.” 

“Okay.” There's barely a moment of silence this time, and then Taako says, “We used to throw rocks down from the top and make bets on whose would get to the bottom first. But one time Magnus forgot to let go of his rock and he almost died.” 

“Focus, Taako,” Kravitz says, trying not to laugh. 

“Fiiiiine. Canyon, purple sky, relaxing.” He falls silent then, and Kravitz holds onto his hands.

“Alright. Now when you're ready, you just start taking things out of the picture in your mind. You start with the details, and then the background, and you keep getting closer until all you see is one thing, and then you just stop seeing that too.”

“Uh, right. Okay.” 

They sit there in silence for a long time, and Kravitz starts to sort of wish that Taako had used the telepathy spell, that he could see what's going on in his head and know whether he's helping at all. 

Then Taako’s head falls forward onto Kravitz’s shoulder, and he mumbles something indistinct. Kravitz freezes. 

“Taako?” he says carefully, but the only response he gets is a snore. 

Kravitz smiles to himself. Grateful for his freedom from the discomforts of human considerations like needing to breathe, he lets himself fall backwards, and Taako goes with him easily, sprawling against his chest. They don't move for the next eight hours. 

***

“Listen, boss,” Magic Brian says, hovering over Kravitz’s shoulder in his office. “Are you going to do somezing about zis guy?” 

Kravitz scowls at the apparition, flipping over his paperwork so Brian can't read it. “This guy? Which of your little friends are you referring to?” 

“You know who I mean. Ze hunger.” 

“I don't see how that's any of your business.”

Magic Brian disappears and then reappears just as quickly, now perched on the edge of Kravitz’s desk. “Boss, you know what I mean. Zere are people like me, a nice first-level wizard who got a little mixed up in some bad zings. And there's somebody really dangerous like that Mr. Hunger.”

“Doesn't make any difference to me,” Kravitz says sternly. “Not my job to make moral judgements. I got the book for that.”

Brian reaches for a pile of Kravitz’s personnel reports, but he snatches them back, glaring. “Is zat why you're hiring liches now?” Brian says. 

“Hiring isn't my job either.” Kravitz doesn't know how Brian is getting information about the new reapers, but he decides he’d rather not know. “And it's not any of your business who the Raven makes bargains for. If you wanted a better deal, maybe you should've been more useful.” 

Brian sighs dramatically. “But you put in a good word for them,” he says. “Because you're in love.” Another, much more tragic sigh. “I remember what that was like.” 

“You've only been dead for two years. You don't have to act like you don't remember what being alive was like.” 

“Just remember there are dangers you can't handle, reaper man,” Brian says with a wink. “You'll get in over your head.” 

Kravitz rolls his eyes and, with a subtle hand motion, banishes Magic Brian to a distant corner of the fortress. At least it'll buy him a few minutes of peace.

***

  
Taako's got a new apartment in Neverwinter, his own space with a huge, impressive kitchen. The kitchen is the first part of the place he bothers to furnish, and so far still the only part with a significant amount of possessions in it, apart from Taako's already-cluttered bedroom. He's already got at least one of any cooking implement anyone could possibly need.    
  
Taako's been spending a lot of time there, and it's where Kravitz finds him after his first day of job training with Lup and Barry.   
  
He's making something he calls coeurs a la creme with apricot sauce and drinking what seems like a lot of cooking sherry.    
  
"Your sister's very enthusiastic about the business," Kravitz says. "Your talent runs in the family, obviously."    
  
"Mmm-hmm," Taako says, eyes on his mixing bowl.    
  
Kravitz walks up behind him, peering over his shoulder and resting his hands gently on Taako's hips, but he doesn't respond.    
  
"It'll be nice to get to know them better," Kravitz ventures.    
  
"Don't start--" Taako says, and then frowns deeply, scowling into the distance.    
  
"Don't start what?" Kravitz says, nudging at his shoulder.    
  
Taako scowls more fiercely. "Just-- with Lup-- you're gonna be spending a lot of time with her, and it's like..."    
  
He trails off. Taako does this with some frequency, just stopping when he doesn't want to talk about something. There are a lot of things Taako doesn't want to talk about.    
  
"Are you worried we won't get along?" Kravitz prompts, trying to be delicate.    
  
"No," Taako says, rolling his eyes. "Everybody loves Lup. You're gonna love her. She's the brave one and she's smart and good and she wouldn't let me kill any robots." He sniffs a little contemptuously. "She's the best."    
  
Kravitz stands still for a moment, silent.    
  
"And I love her!" Taako runs a hand through his own hair, looking impatient with himself. "I just don't want you to start liking her more than you like me."    
  
Kravitz's breath catches a little. Of all the things he'd thought Taako might be worried about, this wasn't one of them.    
  
"Taako..." he starts to say.    
  


“It's fine,” Taako cuts him off. “You don't have to make any promises, or whatever.” 

  
"I did see a hundred years of your life," Kravitz says. "You were... when we heard that story, you were the brightest thing I'd ever seen. You were brilliant."    
  
"You  _ don't _ have to say that." In one moment, Taako spins and waltzes away from him. There's a hint of a smile playing around his lips, though.    
  
"I mean it," Kravitz says. "Swear on my grave."    
  
He laughs, then, and tilts his head in that flirtatious way. "I told you not to hold  it against me that I'm not as cool and dead as the rest of you."    
  
Kravitz leans back over into his space and kisses him lightly. He tastes like apricots. "I love you," he says, "and between you and me, your desserts are much better than Lup's."    
  
"You're lucky to have me," Taako smirks.    
  
"Absolutely."    
  
To Taako's later Intense distress, the dessert burns.    
  
***   
  
The man who used to be the hunger takes up playing chess with Barry.    
  
Barry isn't very good at chess; Kravitz is much better, and he recognizes John as an opponent who has spent a similar amount of endless time practicing, but he doesn't want to play any kind of game against John. The man's disturbing in his complacency. He's taken up doing embroidery. Kravitz is certain, though he can't actually pinpoint any reason why, that he's planning something.   
  
Lup, of course, is too impatient to sit through a game of chess at all. So John and Barry play, using their minds to move spectral pieces on an immaterial board.

“You know if you beat him that isn't a binding contract,” Kravitz says to John, looking up from the mound of paperwork on his desk. “Barry is not authorized to gamble with anyone's lives.” 

“Understood,” John says, spectral eyes closed in concentration. “Knight to D-4. I usually win, in any case.” 

Scowling, Barry accepts the piece that John’s knight has just knocked over. “I'm getting better,” he says. 

“He's not getting better,” Lup’s voice says, emanating from the stone pendant Barry’s wearing. “By the way, I just killed like four glicks, you guys regretting doing that nerd shit instead of coming on this raid with me yet?”

“No,” says Barry, as Kravitz says, “Limit the casualties, Lup.”

When John wins the game of chess, he and his chessboard fade slowly into the ether. It always makes Kravitz a little uneasy not to know exactly where he is in the fortress. 

“Isn't that a little strange for you?” Kravitz asks after a few moments, when Barry has returned to annotating the ancient tome from the last crypt they were in. “Talking to him?”

“Merle did it for years,” Barry says. He shrugs a little, like it isn't terribly significant. “He's had interesting life experiences, I guess. We sorta got used to having it around. The hunger, I mean.” 

There's a sound on the other end of Barry’s pendent of a small explosion. “I hate that guy,” Lup says loudly. “We should kill him again.” 

Kravitz sighs, looking down at his forms. “I don't like thinking about what happened when you were running from him,” he admits. “I mean -- he killed all of you. Multiple times.” 

“That wasn't great,” Barry says. “But, well, who do we know that hasn't made some pretty fatal mistakes?” 

“He hasn't told Taako he's hanging out with the hunger,” Lup says wisely. There's another explosion, followed by several screams. “Oops.”

Kravitz raises an eyebrow at Barry and reaches for his scythe.

***

There's a spread in the biggest Neverwinter broadsheet about Taako’s newest project, the school of magic he's opening with his friend Ren from Refuge. He seems proud of it; he pastes it carefully into his scrapbook alongside all the others, the reams of press coverage he's been gathering ever since the world got its memories back. 

“I'm not gonna forget about any of this,” Taako says, carefully pressing down the corners of the newspaper clipping. “I'm keeping  _ records _ , baby. No more erasing the past for Taako. When I'm super old and losing my mind you can read me these and remind me who I am.” 

Kravitz smiles fondly. Taako says things like that sometimes, things that imply he's planning on Kravitz still being around decades and centuries from now. Kravitz doesn't point it out -- actually asking Taako to talk about the future is an automatic ticket to a silent treatment -- but it's nice. He’ll catch on to what he's saying, eventually. 

Kravitz flips through the stack of letters from Taako’s fans. This is a daily exercise, going through the notes, trying to find the ones that will interest Taako and filtering out the occasional less-than-flattering ones. Kravitz is using a spell that lets him read ten times as fast as normal, and it's still a lot to get through. 

“I’d be happy to,” he says.

“Ugh. On second thought, if I start forgetting things again, just kill me,” Taako says flippantly. “Anyway. Anything interesting in there?” 

Kravitz hands him a few of the letters and subtly slips another few containing criticism of Taako’s magical abilities into a desk drawer. “Mostly the usual. People are very inspired by you. Tomorrow it'll be a deluge of applications for your magic lessons.” 

Taako grins. “Oh, I'm having those sent  _ directly  _ to Ren.” He flips the letters back to Kravitz. “Don't suppose it would be an appropriate use of company resources if you made Barold answer these?” 

“You don't want to keep any of those? For your book?” 

“Nah.” Taako hesitates. “It's nice that they write, but… it’s not the same as having, you know, a life. It's like… when Lucretia made me forget about Lup, she thought that I’d be okay if I was famous, if people came to see my shows. But it doesn’t -- ugh. I don't know. I guess it's just like, a bunch of people loving you a little doesn't equal one person loving you a lot.” 

“More than one person,” Kravitz says softly. 

Taako makes a face at him. “Yeah,  _ now _ ,” he says. “But when I was a kid I just had Lup. She was the one who could always tell what people really wanted. I just thought, if somebody likes  _ me,  _ they must be great.” 

He laughs, a little bitterly, a little bit laughing at himself. “Taako--” Kravitz starts to say. 

“Not a big deal anymore, homie,” Taako says hastily. “Totally over it, it’s been like one hundred years in Taako time. Anyway, this--” he taps the cover of his scrapbook “--is just to remind me of all the dope stuff  _ I’ve  _ done.” 

Kravitz unfolds one of the letters written in a child’s handwriting then; those tend to be the ones Taako wants to hang onto. “Dear Mr. Taako,” he reads. “My name is David and I’m eleven years old. I have three brothers and they used to make fun of me because I like baking and reading girls’ books, but when we all heard your story, they said I could be a hero just like you when I grow up. I wanted to say thank you for saving the world and helping me. I hope I can be a wizard like you some day.” 

Taako’s eyes go a little soft, at that. “Give me that one,” he says. “We gotta get that kid a scholarship.” He snatches the letter away, and Kravitz sees him tuck it into one of his many pockets, where it'll be safe from the general chaos of his surroundings. 

“I'll write you a letter too,” Kravitz says, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “You’ll want to save that one.” 

***

John has been giving him lists of books to bring back from the physical world. Kravitz doesn't like it, and he isn't buying the things himself -- he gives the lists to Taako, who passes them onto Angus McDonald, who checks out the books from his university library. Kravitz is slightly worried about the material stability of books that have been passed back and forth between two planes of reality, but Angus says he thinks it's an interesting science experiment.

John has followed up on his promise to read modern philosophy. Kravitz brings him heaps of the things, from every species and culture in Faerun that's developed writing. John doesn't seem to care about the language they're in, or the content. 

“Are you getting anything out of those?” Kravitz asks him when he drops off a fresh stack of books in John's obscure corner of the fortress. “Changing your views on anything?” 

John sighs. “There are some interesting ideas. You know Merle Highchurch?” 

“Uh -- yes.” 

“I'm hoping these will help me understand his point of view,” John says, gesturing at the several religious texts he had requested. “I’d like to be able to… grasp that faith. Eventually.” 

He sounds sincere, but it's hard to tell. John has been getting blurrier and blurrier around the edges, even when he's conversing with someone directly. 

“Well,” Kravitz says, “as someone who works for a god, you can count on ‘em for some things, but a lot of the time you just have to figure things out for yourself.” 

He hesitates, swinging his scythe uselessly at his side, and John looks at him with distant eyes. Looks through him, maybe. 

“Hard to get that out of books,” he adds, pointedly. 

“Yes,” John says. “Hard to do that in a prison cell as well.” 

If he thinks he’s getting inside Kravitz’s head, if he thinks he's going to get any pity, he’s wrong. Kravitz isn't going to fall for that. 

“I'll get you some books on dwarven philosophy,” he says. “Maybe that'll help.” 

*** 

Kravitz is genuinely surprised by how long it takes Taako to ask him the obvious question, but there's still no good answer when it does come: “So, is it weird if I ask you how you died?” 

They're drinking wine on the balcony of Taako’s apartment, which Taako insists is the best place to drink wine. They haven't had enough for this line of questioning to be driven by intoxication, although he’ll probably brush it off as that if Kravitz says he doesn't want to talk about it. 

It's been a good night, one of few recently they've both been free, and Kravitz doesn't want to ruin it, doesn't want to turn this into a night of talking about his terrible choices. But, he supposes, there's really no good time to talk about them. 

He pauses for just a moment too long, and Taako jumps back in. “I mean, if you don't want to tell me it's okay, it's chill, but uh, I was thinking about it and I was wondering if you might not remember? ‘Cause I could help you figure it out…”

“I do remember,” Kravitz says, and drains the rest of his glass of wine. “I understand why you'd worry, though.” 

“You don't have to say,” Taako says quietly.

“No, it's alright.” Still, Kravitz has to look at the ground to keep the waver out of his voice. “It's an old story. You get a little too involved in a death cult, you make a deal with the Raven Queen to give you magical powers because everyone you know is doing it, before you know it you're volunteering to be sacrificed on an altar because you're a dumb kid with something to prove, and she's appearing to you and offering you a job.” He shrugs.

“A death cult?” Taako says, sounding a little shocked. 

“I mean, if you want to get technically about it, it was more of a music scene. You’ve heard of death metal? Well.” 

Taako doesn't say anything, not immediately. Instead, he reaches over and takes Kravitz’s hand, and he holds it tight, running his fingers soothingly along Kravitz’s knuckles. 

He can't help thinking that it's not dissimilar to what happened to John, not really. Someone looking for meaning in life the way he was, it wouldn't be extraordinary to think the world would be better off wiped clean and started from scratch. It would be frighteningly easy. 

“I'm glad you asked,” he says. “I haven't talked about it in, well, ever.” 

Taako holds tighter onto his hand. “You know that was a dumb thing to do, right?” There's a slight waver in his voice. 

“I know,” Kravitz says quietly. 

Taako swipes angrily at his eyes with the back of his free hand. “Good. ‘Cause -- you shouldn't have done that shit.” 

Kravitz raises their joined hands and kisses Taako’s, smiling faintly. “That's true. But if you look at it another way -- if both of us hadn't died at least once, we wouldn't be here.”

Taako laughs. “Hey, fate is my goddess, dude. But seriously, if you wanna talk about it some more later,” Taako says, “I can, uh, listen. I want you to talk to me.” 

“I know that.” Kravitz smiles at him, and their eyes meet for a long, silent moment. Kravitz can feel his heart beating; it takes a long time for it to start, sometimes, but it never goes away when Taako’s around, It’s a relentless drumbeat reminding him that he did, in some ways, survive, that he's real and present and here. 

When Kravitz keeps looking at him, Taako gives a small, embarrassed laugh and looks away. “We are lucky, you know,” he says, and then catches himself. “I mean.  _ You're  _ lucky I stuck around on this plane.” 

Kravitz leans over for a quick kiss; he still hasn't let go of Taako’s hand. “Very lucky,” he agrees.

*** 

Hardly anyone communicates directly with the Raven Queen -- most of her messages are passed along through written communication, delivered by her birds. She's not particularly interested in leaving the Celestial Plane to talk to her servants, but she finds ways to speak with Kravitz. He is managing her entire realm of reality for her, after all. 

He recognizes the feeling now as soon as he feels it, the always slightly uncomfortable sensation of his hand moving without his own will. It's holding his quill pen as he writes out his weekly report on Lup and Barry’s progress, and it ruins his notes. It scrawls across the page in the Raven’s handwriting. 

_ Have you reviewed the case we discussed?  _

Kravitz scowls at the words. 

_ I still believe he's dangerous _ , he writes back. 

The Raven writes for a much longer amount of time, her handwriting messier than usual.  _ I’m not denying that, but I am not certain his crimes are within our domain. He is not even original to this planar system. Didn't you make that argument to me a little while ago? _

Kravitz pauses to think of an adequate way to respond, and the quill jumps forward in his hand again. 

_ I worry it does more harm for you to interact with him than he would do in the sea of souls. _

_ I don't think that’s true, My Lady,  _ Kravitz writes back quickly.

_ I want you to be aware of your influences and the limits of your power, Kravitz. Handle this well or there will be no more decisions like you've made with the red robed liches. _

Kravitz presses the pen zone a little too hard, a blotch of ink on the now useless parchment.  _ I can handle it, My Lady,  _ he writes. 

_ I trust you _ , she replies, and a moment later the parchment is wiped entirely clean. 

Kravitz swears quietly under his breath and returns to his performance review. 

***

“You're getting a little too good at this, babe,” Taako says when they're lying in bed together on what neither of them has acknowledged is their anniversary. 

Kravitz gently kisses at the slight bruises he’s left around Taako’s collarbone. “I had to learn to keep up with you eventually.” 

When their relationship was a new thing in terms of capital-P capital-I Physical Intimacy, Kravitz hadn't been terribly good at it. It was difficult not to get overwhelmed when you hadn't touched anyone in that way in well over a century. Taako certainly hasn't minded that, but he vocally appreciates it now that Kravitz is more in control, can take some of the weight of  _ thinking all the time  _ off of Taako’s shoulders. And Kravitz loves that he make Taako’s eyes go hazy and unfocused, make him say things in the moment that are entirely sincere. 

“You're getting an A for effort from me,” Taako says sleepily. He tucks his head under Kravitz’s chin and sighs happily, his limbs winding around him tightly to keep their bodies pressed together. “Mmm. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Kravitz says automatically. It's stopped feeling like a shock every time they say that, and that's really nice too, that kind of pattern. 

It's been a year, Kravitz thinks to himself with wonder. 

It's not a lot of time, a year. In the grand scheme of both of their lives, it's nothing, a blink of an eye. But the thing is that a year never stops feeling like a long time, no wonder how many of them you go through, and it feels very significant to have held onto something this good for this long. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Taako says after a while. 

“Just about you,” Kravitz says, running his fingers through Taako’s hair. “Corny, but honest, I'm sorry.” 

Taako snickers. “Thanks. You wanna know what I'm thinking about?” 

“Of course.”

“‘M thinking about getting a grand piano for the living room,” Taako says, still speaking directly into Kravitz’s skin. “Would you like that? For your music conductor stuff.” 

Startled, Kravitz feels his heart leap in his chest. Taako must be able to feel it too, because he pulls away enough to make sure Kravitz can see him smirk. 

“I want you to know, like, this isn't just my place,” Taako says. “You practically live here already when you're not hunting for ghosts, so I think you should get to have some of your own stuff. So it's like…” he hesitates, closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe. “So it's more like ours. Don't laugh at me.” 

Kravitz sets his hand lightly on Taako’s cheek until Taako opens his eyes, looking at him with genuine doubt. He kisses him, lightly, but Taako makes a frustrated noise and kisses back more deeply, his hand tightening on Kravitz’s shoulder. 

“Sweetheart,” Kravitz says, and means it. “I’m… thank you. Really.” 

Taako looks deeply relieved to hear it, and wriggles his way back to full-on snuggling. “Pretty good anniversary present,” he says smugly. 

The light, floaty feeling of the previous moments dissipates from Kravitz’s mind immediately. “I didn't… think you would want to do anything,” he admits. 

Taako laughs. “It's okay. Just get me something really good. Take me on vacation or something. I’d love to see what you wear to the beach.” 

But the image Kravitz can't help but picture is of taking Taako to his own space, the realm where he spends easily half of his time, making that, in some way, theirs as well. 

“Maybe we’ll go to the astral plane,” he says. 

Taako laughs again. “Sure. In like, eight hundred years, pal.” 

Kravitz presses his lips to the top of Taako’s messy hair, smiles into it. He’ll work on it. 

***

“You know we gotta talk to everyone about it,” Lup says. 

They're making their way through an underground crypt, just the two of them on this mission, and Kravitz suspects that she's making the most of having a mortal body again by loudly and deliberately crunching bones under her boots. 

“You can't just say that like I'm going to know what you mean.” They've reaches a large stone door that appears to be locked from the other side. “Try the glyph I taught you.”

Lup draws the pattern on the door with her wand, and the stone in front of them melts away on their first try. “Told you I was getting good at this. Anyway, you do know what I mean. If we’re gonna do something about the creepy capitalist world-eater, we gotta tell the IPRE.” 

“Who says we’re doing anything about him?” 

“I get messages from the boss too, you know. I see you and Barry palling around with him. Honestly, I don't care one way or the other if you let him float around the pool of souls, as long he's not walking around where I have to see him. But if you're decided what to do with him, you have to tell the others.” 

Lup flicks a spiderweb out of her way with her face, and Kravitz can't resist saying, “You know, part of the deal we made to walk amongst the living was that we’re not supposed to destroy anything.” 

She rolls her eyes. “What, that counts? Butterfly effect, I mess up one spider’s day and next thing you know the earth is ruled by evil spiderpeople?” 

“Maybe,” Kravitz snaps. “Just remember, if that does happen, we’re the ones who are going to be around to deal with it.” 

“Fair point.” Lup looks over her shoulder at him. “You know I have a fair point too. Promise they'll have good advice.” 

Kravitz sighs and steps around several spiderwebs. “Fine. We’ll talk to them.” 

A wave of zombies comes crashing into the room before Lup can respond, but as Lup leaps joyfully towards them with a jet of fire streaming from her wand, Kravitz still feels uneasy. 

*** 

They meet at Merle’s place; he has the biggest house out of the group of them, apparently, and Taako has vetoed being seen with most of these people at his franchise locations. 

Taako’s decidedly unhappy about being here as well, skulking around at Kravitz’s side and glaring at Lucretia from under the brim of his hat. “This better be worth it,” he says. 

Lucretia is talking to Lup and Barry, and Kravitz can tell that hurts. “I'm sorry,” he says. “We’ll do something less stressful, after this. Alone.” 

Taako takes his hand and squeezes it tight, and Kravitz is grateful for it, their nonverbal language of reassurance. “Yeah,” Taako says. “You owe me that vacation.” 

Merle gathers them all around his dining room table and passes around a bowl of nachos, seeming in good spirits. Apart from the conflict between Taako and Lucretia, Kravitz can tell that the group of them enjoy being in the same place. Barry is explaining the latest in necromancy to a captive audience of Davenport and Lucretia, while Magnus shows Taako and Kravitz a truly staggering number of photos of his dogs. Kravitz will be shocked if Magnus doesn't eventually show up on their doorstep with a puppy in a basket. 

“So,” Merle says, “what's going on so serious I couldn't invite anybody else? If somebody’s about to pop the question to somebody, I need more beer.” 

“It's nothing like that,” Lup says. “We’re actually here to talk about John.” 

Immediately, Kravitz sees Merle’s hands start to shake. 

“John’s gone,” he says. 

Lup’s choosing her words carefully. “Technically, but he's not gone to somewhere where we can't reach him. He’s been, well, at the Eternal Stockade. And we’re wondering what we should do with him.” 

There’s a long moment in which the only sound is Davenport setting down his glass of wine with a heavy, ominous thud.

“What do you mean, you're wondering what to do with him?” Merle says. “What options do you even have? You can't --”

“We can't bring him back to life,” Kravitz says. “If that's what you're thinking.” 

“Not that anyone would even want to,” Lucretia mutters, but there's an expression on Merle’s face that suggests he was thinking about it. 

Lup, standing at the head of the table, holds up a hand for silence. “Obviously, the final decision’s up to him,” she says, gesturing at Kravitz. “But essentially, we have two options. We leave him hanging around the prison like we do with people we think are likely to bolt out of the ghost gang, flight risks, you know. Or we let him into the soul soup. Let him go to the real afterlife.” 

Kravitz keeps his eyes on Merle. He pushes his glasses up onto his forehead and rubs at his own remaining eye, looking tired. 

“Forgive me,” Lucretia says, “but why is this your job?”

Taako speaks up before Kravitz has the chance to respond. “They're the supervisors of a whole reality, Madame Director,” he snaps, voice tense with anger. “Kravitz is second in command for a  _ god _ . He’s only asking you nobodies as a favor.”

Lucretia just looks ashamed, frowning down at the table. Kravitz sets a hand on Taako’s knees, and to his relief, Taako shoots him a quick, grateful look and takes his hand. “It's alright,” Kravitz says. “The group of you just have the most experience with the Hunger. It seemed right to consult you.” 

“I've talked to him,” Barry says. “Probably the most of the three of us. I’d understand saying, you know, just look him up for eternity, but I don't think he's a risk. He doesn't want power anymore. The function of the Eternal Stockade is preventative, not punitive,” he adds, reciting straight out of the employee handbook. Lup nods. 

“He wouldn't do anything,” Merle says wearily. “He’s not interested in that.” 

“Really?” Magnus says, breaking his worried silence. “‘Cause that seems like something he was pretty interested in. For a century.”

“Right,” Lucretia says. “Haven't we caused enough problems by not looking at all sides of the issue? He could influence the other souls if he were allowed to associate with them. You're asking for the creation of another Hunger, made up of everyone on his plane who's ever died.”

“He's not like that now,” Merle says, with fierce conviction. Magnus and Lucretia exchange a skeptical look.

“There's no emotional transference in the astral plane,” Kravitz says. “Disembodied souls communicate through a transfer of memories. And they all have the memories of the Voidfish too. There are plenty of mass murderers and tyrants among the dead. I know them. They're not terribly persuasive people.”

“Anyone who can convince a whole planet to surrender his existence is fairly persuasive in my book,” Lucretia says. 

Abruptly, Taako’s fingernails dig into Kravitz’s skin. “Look,” he says, “I don't really give a fuck whether Merle’s weird friend who tried to kill us all stays in ghost jail. But you all have some pretty strange ideas about where you draw the line of forgiveness.” He looks pointedly at Lucretia. “I mean, if all the planes he tried to destroy are right back where we left ‘em, what does it even matter, right?” 

She doesn't answer. Nobody does. 

“Well,” Barry chimes in with false brightness, “I think we gotta let him go. That's my vote.” 

“This isn't a democracy this time,” Lucretia says. “If we do that--”

“You're right,” Kravitz interrupts. “It's not. It's my decision, and I'll let you know what I decide.” 

"Great,” Taako says. “Lup, Barry, Krav -- let’s go somewhere else for dinner.” He stands up and sweeps out of the room.

Kravitz shoots a quick, apologetic look at Merle and follows him. 

Lup and Barry follow them into the hallway, and Lup says, too loudly, “Geez, that went super well.” 

“Whatever.” Taako grabs his cloak from the rack by the front door and stalks outside; they all follow him. “I know you guys gotta make a tough decision, but it's not like -- I don't wanna make any more big important choices about the fate of the world, you know?” 

Lup and Barry exchange a glance, and then Lup nods. “Yeah,” she says, “I get it.” 

“You shouldn't ask us for any opinions on stuff, anyway,” Taako says, looking at Kravitz. “What do we ever know?” 

“Kravitz!” a voice calls out into the night.

The four of them whirl around almost as one, and there's Merle, hurrying down his front lawn. When he reaches them, he looks up at Kravitz with a hard-eyed, serious stare. It's not the kind of expression he wears often. 

“I know you're the arbiter of life and death and all of that.” He punctuates it with a dismissive gesture, made with his wooden hand, and Kravitz feels a familiar jolt of guilt. “But I gotta say something. John isn't all bad, deep down. Just like you're not, even though you tried to kill us and made Magnus cut my arm off.” 

“You don't have to bring that up  _ every  _ time, you know,” Taako says, but Merle ignores him. 

“I think you should give him a chance,” he says. “None of us would be here without second and third and a bunch more chances. He deserves one.” Merle’s gaze is surprisingly authoritative, when he wants it to be. There's more than a little holy power in it now. “Just think about it.” 

*** 

“Got a minute?” Kravitz says, standing over John and his pile of books in a sealed-off corridor of the prison. 

He's found one of Kravitz’s secret passageways, the rooms and hallways hidden behind walls, left there by, he assumes, one of his predecessors. They're easy enough to get to for people who don't have use doors, but most of the inhabitants don't think to look. 

“Certainly.” John closes the book he’s reading, a thick tome of the origins of Druidic magic. Kravitz can't imagine what he’s getting out of it.

“I need to ask you something,” Kravitz says. “What do you actually want?”

John doesn't look startled in any recognizable human way, but he does wink out of view for a moment. “I don't know what you mean,” he says. 

“I think you do.” Kravitz glares at him, but John doesn't respond, so he reluctantly continues. “What are you really hoping to get out of all of these books? No offense, but I don’t see how it's helpful to learn about a world you're not from or going back to.” 

John disappears entirely then, flickering out like a lantern. He hasn't gone anywhere -- Kravitz can tell -- he just isn't visible. 

“John?” Kravitz says, awkwardly. He thinks it might be the first time he's used his name. 

“Apologies,” says his disembodied voice. “I'll… try to explain. I suppose I'm just looking for a way to find a new purpose. There has to be one, even here… I thought I might be getting a hint of it when I spoke with Merle. But there aren't many good conversation partners here.” 

“There's Barry,” Kravitz says. “You seem to enjoy talking to him.” 

John’s outline is wavering a little bit again, like he's trying to regain his form. “His motivation is easy,” he says. “Love. Yours and Lup’s, they aren't too different. I don't have that kind of luxury. And the other people you keep here -- they're bad influences. 

“On you?” Kravitz says, disbelievingly.

“I know,” John says. “But they say -- they say an alcoholic shouldn't spend time with people who drink. That's the way it is for me and despair.”

He sounds sincere, but that's half the problem with dealing with John. He always sounds sincere -- even back when he was the avatar of world-devouring hunger, Merle said. 

“If you were… around other people,” Kravitz starts to say, cautiously. “People who might have bad memories or bad thoughts. Could you control yourself? Your consciousness?” 

John’s a little more solid now, and he frowns, confused. “I think I would try to have as little consciousness as possible.”

“What does that mean?” 

“I have no desire to project my desires onto anyone, not again,” John says. “But it is lonely. After so long joined to the consciousness of millions of others… it is lonely. If I had that feeling again… well, I suppose I’d try to forget who I am. What I've done.” 

He sounds sincere. What he’s talking about is disconcerting, and far from being appealing, but he does sound sincere. 

“And that's what you want?” 

There's a wistful look on his face. “Yes.” 

The keys hanging at Kravitz’s side feel heavy, weighed down with the weight of responsibility he’s not sure he should have. But this is his choice, in the end. As much as he wishes they would sometimes, no one else is going to make it for him. 

“Alright,” Kravitz says, and John looks up at him with an expression of shock.

Kravitz unhooks the ring of keys from his best with a click that sounds final. “Alright,” he repeats. “I can make that happen.” 

*** 

When he gets home that night (and how strange is it that he's started thinking of this place in the mortal realm as home?) Taako and Ren are in the middle of a long discussion-slash-possible-argument about curriculum decisions. 

Kravitz pokes his head in to remind them to please not teach any necromancy, but he waits until Ren has left and he and Taako are eating dinner to broach the subject of John. 

“I made a decision,” he says, with a casualness he doesn't feel. “I hope you'll think it's the right one.” 

Taako made some kind of new food, a sort of egg-based, sideways version of the thing called a taco from the plane of thought. It tastes impressively good for a first try, but he seems discontent with it, already scribbling notes onto a cloth napkin.

“Hmm?” Taako says. “You mean about the hunger guy.” 

“Yeah.” Kravitz takes a deep breath. “I, um, I decided to go ahead and commute his sentence. Let him move on.”

“Oh.” Taako spears a piece of green pepper with his fork and looks at it critically. “Well, Merle will be glad to hear that.” 

His face stays essentially neutral, which doesn't really lessen Kravitz’s nervousness. “And how do you feel about it?” 

Taako shrugs. “I guess I just… don't feel like it makes a big difference? If something else like this is gonna happen again, it's not gonna be the same guy. If anything I'm glad you don't have to talk to him all the time anymore. He sounds like the universe’s worst buzzkill.” 

Kravitz laughs. “He is that.” 

Taako seems a little more solemn, though. “I don't know if I should feel different, it's just like… nothing's really over now, right? No matter what happened to him, it wouldn't change what happened to us.” 

“That's true,” Kravitz says cautiously.

“So you just keep going,” Taako says. “Only really gets bad when you can’t do that.” He stands up and grabs a bottle of wine from the counter while mage-handing his dishes over to the sink. “You want some?”

“Thank you.” 

After a few quiet sips of wine, Taako says, “I mean, I don't know what any of the astral plane is like, but it seems like being a floating soul can't be that awesome either.” 

“There's a kind of beauty to it,” Kravitz says thoughtfully. “I think… I don't know, but I think they're happy.” 

“Well, I’ll take being alive any day,” Taako says. He looks at Kravitz, and his mouth curves upwards into a smile. “You know, I was thinking about what you said. About how we’re only here because we both got a bunch of really crazy second chances.” 

He's leaning forward, and when Kravitz reaches for his hand, he takes it. Kravitz can feel the transfer of heat immediately; he can feel the beginnings of a heartbeat. 

“I don't know if it's fate,” Taako says. “It might be kind of like, the opposite of fate? But I thought about everything that could’ve happened differently, and I --”

He breaks off and closes his eyes, and Kravitz gives him a moment to push through to the opposite site of his embarrassment over having feelings. 

“I wouldn't change anything if it meant I wouldn't meet you,” Taako says in a rush.

Kravitz can hear his heartbeat; he can feel the warmth of his skin. Taako leans over and brushes a tear off his cheek. “Don't start having alive person emotions, now,” he says. “Skeletons don't cry, you're gonna ruin your image.” 

Kravitz laughs, helplessly. “I wouldn't change anything, either,” he says, and feels alive in every way that matters. 


End file.
